Good Luck With That
by still.fly
Summary: Jinx has turned over a new leaf. She's still debating over the spandex, however. -Post Lightspeed. Kid Flash/Jinx
1. Day 1

**Chapter One**

_Let's think about this rationally; you're _really _going to be that shallow. You're going to throw away your entire life's work because some boy literally rushed in, handed you a rose and flirted a little? Is that all it takes to persuade you? A cute boy in spandex?_

Now hold on a minute! The spandex is a no brainer, but since when has he been _cute_? And I find it really ironic that you're calling throwing away my "life's work"—which consisted of leading a team of dimwits to do villainous things—for a life better off than that one . . . _shallow_. That's twisted logic. And besides, it wasn't _just_ because of the roses and the flirting. It's complicated. Why should I care if you call me _shallow_ when I've committed much more heinous acts . . . like kicking puppies, and stealing ice cream from young children?

_You should care, because—apparently—you've turned over a new leaf and such heinous acts are in the past and you've gained a conscious. You know. Apparently._

Nothing is definite right now. Just because I'm leaving the H.I.V.E. doesn't mean I'm going to run around in spandex saving the day. In fact, the thought makes me tingle in disgust. So there.

_Then why are you waiting and hoping for Kid Flash to come pick you up and provide you a place to stay?_

Wha? How do you . . . nevermind. Who are you?

_I'm your subconscious._

"Great." I mutter aloud, "I guess I'm arguing with myself now." I must have gone insane. Each step in the opposite direction from the H.I.V.E.'s headquarters confirmed it. I had a duffel bag draped over my shoulder and I was clutching a rose and a crumpled piece of paper in my hand. The paper bared a sloppily written address and a lightning bolt for a signature. He couldn't even give me the decency of writing his name. You'd think the fastest boy alive would have to time to scribble eight simple letters.

_I happen to like the lightning bolt. It's . . . endearing._

_Cute_, _ENDEARING? _What's wrong with you? There is nothing endearing about this lightning bolt—this-this _poorly_ _drawn_ lightning bolt at that! I probably would have never realized what it was if the stupid rose hadn't given it away that it was from him.

_Whatever._

That last comment from the disembodied voice sounded too much like sarcastic singing for my liking. "Stupid Kid Flash and his stupid lightning bolts." I grumbled, continuing down the street and towards his apartment complex. My fingers were crackling with electric pink energy from getting annoyed at myself. And what's worse, the fact that I was annoying myself annoyed me. How does one even do that? The windows of a nearby shop shattered when I accidently kicked a rock it's way. Of course, any normal rock wouldn't break a window just by hitting it lightly. But a jinxed rock would probably do the trick.

At this rate, I probably won't make it to his apartment without first bringing Jump City to the ground and in ashes. I don't think the Titans would appreciate that very much upon returning home from kicking some Brotherhood of Evil butt.

_Aw, you're optimistic that the Teen Titans will come out victorious. How cute._

With every appearance you make inside my head you sound more and more like that idiot speedster. Next time you talk why don't you pick a voice a little less annoying? One meant for narrating. Like . . . Morgan Freeman's voice or something. Yeah, that'd be sweet. I might even start listening to you.

Its next response was a little too laced with hope, _Really?_

No.

Somehow, while I bickered stupidly with myself, I had made it to his apartment building. This was my last chance to turn around and disappear from the world instead of reemerging as a spandex-clad do-gooder.

_So you decided on the spandex?_

Shut up.

And I walked inside.

* * *

"What were you thinking when you hexed my front door to smithereens?" He questioned from the other side of the apartment. He strolled to where there once stood a door to investigate the damage—idiot. It's obvious at first glance—and first glance tells me that it's just a pile of scrap wood—that it's just a pile of scrap of wood. This isn't Monster's Inc. There's no way he's going to be able to tape that back together.

"I was _thinking_ that the hallway was too air-conditioned."

"What about burglars?"

"I figured you didn't really care—you're willingly housing one, after all." Actually, that thought had never crossed my mind until now. But still, it's a pretty good excuse, "And 'sides. You're Kid Flash. You could take them."

"You think that highly of me? I'm flattered."

Don't grace that with a response, Jinx.

"But what about privacy?" He asked after moment.

"You're not going to be strolling around the place nude when I'm here . . . are you?" I inquired, a little unsure now that I thought about it. Something told me that that's something he actually _wouldn't_ mind doing as long as it got a rise out of me. I gulped at the thought. The very horrifying thought.

He grinned, "'Course not."

Something about that smile made me feel like he was lying.

"I'm just really concerned for _your_ privacy." He told me, racing off and reappearing in a second with a broom and dust pan. He quickly cleaned up the ex-door, ran off and reappeared again, this time cleaning utensil-less. While he did this, my brain was comprehending what he said.

I glared at him, "What do you mean?"

He motioned to the sofa, "That's a pull-out. I decided I would sacrifice my living room so that I could provide you with a room you could call your own. You just blasted away the door to your bedroom. I hope you can change your clothes quickly so people won't see you. But what am I thinking? That's . . . my . . . experti—why are you looking at me like that?"

Even to this day, I can't deny that I indeed was giving him a look. A diabolical sort of look. But it was replaced quickly by a pout. A manipulative sort of pout. "Oh, Flash. You wouldn't leave a girl to change in front of a doorless doorframe, would you? A gentleman just wouldn't do it. And you even said it yourself: changing quickly, it's your _expertise_."

"Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm still not going to let you con me into giving up my bedroom—my own _bedroom_—because _you_ thought it would be fun to pulverize my door even when_ I left you a key."_ He retorted smartly, crossing his arms.

"What key?"

He pulled the folded-up piece of paper with his address on it seemingly out of nowhere and pulled a key from a flap. You'd think I would have noticed that there with how tightly I was clutching it. Maybe I was too distracted with being annoyed at myself. I stared at it dumbly for a moment. Realizing that all my logic, for the most part, had been defeated, I decided I would stoop low. Maybe I _am_ shallow.

I pouted more manipulative-like than before, and I even batted my eyelashes a little. I asked in the feeblest voice I could muster up, ". . . _Please_?"

He stared at me in disbelief, obviously stunned at the skill I possess for manipulating people. His stare began to shake as he took in my pout and the sad look I had in my eyes. Finally he sighed, and consented, "Fine." I smiled instantly and, without really realizing what I was doing, I reached up and put my arms around his neck in _the_ most awkward hug . . . ever. Then I twirled around and skipped to his room in euphoria. I jumped onto his mattress, took his scent in, and fell asleep not caring that it was three o'clock in the afternoon. I was tired.

And this is how the story begins.

* * *

***A/N: Yeah, it's short and to the point. It's just a intro though and the other chapters will not be so short and will (hopefully) not be as to the point. We'll see. I love Kid Flash and Jinx though. I just do. This is my first time posting a story that's not . . . well in the Harry Potter realm. Bare with me. Forreals.**

**Hope you liked it, and please review.**

**I don't own Teen Titans.***


	2. Day 1 Part II

**Chapter Two**

I reckon I'm a good guy, what with saving people's lives and all. But I'm a little shell-shocked and irritated that Jinx was able to trick me so easily. Heck, I probably wouldn't even call it _tricking_ per se. More like manipulating. I'm a sucker for the word please coming out of a pretty girl's mouth. It's a well-known fact. I reckon any good guy would have the same problem.

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," I grumbled.

It's been a couple of hours since Jinx blasted down my door and proclaimed her reign over my poor room. I was out of uniform, just wearing some jeans and a grey sweatshirt. I had called for someone to come and put a new door up—figured that the landlord wouldn't be too happy if I left it the way it was. Plus, I want my room back.

Speaking of which . . .

I creaked the door to my bedroom open just a sliver and slowly poked my head in. Jinx was fast asleep, cuddling up to my pillow. The blankets were at her waist. But what stood out most to me was the content smile gracing her lips. She looked peaceful for the first time since I had met her. It'd be a shame to ruin that.

But . . . you know I can't give up the opportunity to bug her.

"Jinx," I whispered, tip-toeing to her bedside. She shifted slightly, her leg flying up and above the blankets. She squeezed the pillow closer to her chest. "Jinx," I repeated, this time a little louder. She stirred even more. Wow. She must be a light sleeper. I tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes blinked up at me cutely.

"Go away."

Eyes closed, she turned back to my pillow and—is she smelling it?

"If you keep sleeping right now, you won't be able to go to bed later. You know . . . when it's dark outside and the only things that are awake are nocturnal animals, criminals . . . and Batman." I hesitated, thinking for sure that the 'criminal' jibe would get to her, "Plus, someone's coming to replace the door. Therefore, I get my room back to myself." Not a response from Jinx. "Even if you do look extremely adorable cuddled up to my pillow like that."

Her eyes snapped open.

"_Adorable?_" She asked threateningly. Her fingers sparked with a pink hex, "Did you just call me . . . _adorable_?"

Perhaps I'm digging my own grave here, "Well . . . yeah. 'Cause you are. All the time, really. Not just when you cuddle with my pillow. Just especially when you cuddle with my pillow. And smell it. Can't get enough of me, can you?" I smirked, deciding that seeing the look on her face would at least allow me to die a happy man.

"_Cuddle?_" She put her hand to her forehead, eyes shut tight like she was trying hard to control her anger. To be honest, I'm surprised she's even trying. By this point, I deserve to die. "I am not adorable. And I don't _cuddle_. I'm fierce. _Fierce_. And did it ever cross your mind that maybe I was using your pillow as something to rest my head on? You know. Like every other person in the world? I wasn't _cuddling_ with it."

"Uh huh." I was unconvinced on both parts.

She glared at me.

"Now that you're up, would you like to join me in the living room?" I offered her my hand like a gentleman. She ignored it, grumbled, and jumped out of the bed on her own. Before she could so much as take one step closer to the door, I stopped her. "You can't go out there in that get up."

"Why not?" She growled.

"I _told_ you. Someone's going to be here to replace the door _you_ destroyed. They'll be here any minute now. You might not want to be so obviously . . . you." Before she could slap the living daylights out of me, I explained quickly, "Do you want them to call the cops on you?"

"I don't have any other clothes."

"Well you can start by taking your hair out of . . . whatever that is. I'll get you some of my clothes." She didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of wearing my clothes. It made _me_ absolutely ecstatic. Grinning to myself, I dashed to my dresser and pulled out a sweatshirt (a sweatshirt that happened to be the most blaringly Kid Flash based) and some sweatpants that I had outgrew months ago. I dashed back to her side and placed them in her arms. She stared at them incredulously.

"What?" I asked.

"You're kidding, right?" She held the sweatshirt by her thumb and forefinger, "This is too red and yellow for my tastes. Not much of a Kid Flash fan."

"Oh, you're not, eh?"

"Nope," She sniffed, sticking her nose in the air as she dropped the sweatshirt on the ground and kicked it under the bed. "_I'll_ pick what will be suitable for me to wear."

"Whatever you say. But I know you like the lightning bolts," I said, referring to the red lightning bolt across the front of the sweatshirt as I made my way back to the living room/kitchen. Who _doesn't_ like the lightning bolts?

"I do _not!_" She called as I closed the door behind me.

I wonder how long it will take for her to realize that I'm not wearing my mask.

I snickered.

Probably too long.

I went into the kitchen to make a sandwich while she changed. But with my speed and the speed girls use when they change their clothes, I probably could have made a hundred sandwiches. For her sake, and for the sake of not filling my apartment to the brim with sandwiches, I didn't delve into my superspeed. Even though I really, _really_ wanted to. Slowing it down is so . . . wasteful of time—I know! Next time I have to wait for Jinx to change I'll make as many sandwiches as I can and then run them all the way to Africa to feed the starving children!

I am _so_ smart.

"You look like an idiot having a staring contest with a sandwich."

I blinked, and, as though her words didn't faze me in the slightest—which they didn't—I grabbed the sandwich and bit into it. Time really flies when you're imagining ways to solve world hunger, I suppose. I glanced at Jinx and had to suppress a smile. She looked good in my clothes, even if they weren't covered in my insignia. The lightning bolts will grow on her though, I know it. Instead of the Kid Flash sweatshirt, she opted for a loose black t-shirt. She kept the sweatpants, however.

"I'm surprised you even own black." She stated as she planted herself at the kitchen table.

"What?" I inquired incredulously, "I'm just a normal guy without the uniform on. Did you really expect my civies to be all only red and yellow?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't put it past you." Her forehead scrunched up in thought cutely, "What the heck are civies?"

"Civies. Civilian clothes."

At that moment she eyed what I was wearing, starting from my vans, to my jeans, to my track and field t-shirt, and ending with my face. And then her eyes widened comically. Her reaction was something I hadn't been expecting. Maybe I was expecting her to fall head over heels for me (and my good looks); maybe I was even expecting her to laugh at me. Anything but . . . this.

Her hand flew to her face, covering her eyes so that she couldn't see me. "I didn't see anything!" She yelled, running away from me and hiding behind the couch, "I promise I didn't see anything!" She reassured herself in a shaky voice.

Wow. You'd think that she walked in on me in the nude or something. I took note of this somewhere in my brain—a maskless Kid Flash will make for a cowering Jinx.

I walked over to where she was huddled (in the fetal position, if I might add) and cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, Jinx?" I asked, my voice laced in genuine concern. You know, for her sanity and such. She looked up at me and immediately covered her eyes with her hand again. What? Did she expect to see something different this time or something?

"Go away, you imbecile!" She growled, "I didn't see _anything_."

"Come on," I told her playfully, "We both know that's a lie. But it's okay. I trust you."

Her eyes opened immediately and she shot me a glare that would cause other men to fall to the floor and die. Little does she know, I'm quite acquainted with that look. It's the exact same look my mom gives me when I leave my underwear all over the house. While other men will succumb to it in seconds, I can endure it for at _least_ ten minutes.

I would know. I timed it.

"You shouldn't trust me, you—you _dolt_!"

Good one, Jinx.

"I'm a criminal! Are you _trying_ to get yourself turned into the Brotherhood of Evil?" She stood up just to pace around my apartment and flail her arms everywhere in what I assumed to be frustration. Or maybe she was trying to intimidate me. If that was the case, it wasn't working. She just looks really cute when she does that.

"Last time you tried to turn me into the Brotherhood of Evil it didn't really . . . happen." I put my hand to my chin in thought, "Unless I'm remembering wrong, and it was successful. In which chase, I _shouldn't_ trust you but I probably would anyways. Then again, we wouldn't be in this situation right now if, in fact, it actually _was _successful. Unless this is all playing out in my mind . . ." I pinched myself and winced, "Nope. This is real. Ergo, I trust you."

Her eye twitched. I smiled.

"Besides, what could you do with just seeing my face? If I _really_ trust you with my secret identity then I would have told you by now that my real name is Wally West." Her eyes widened even further, even though I didn't think it was possible. Oh my gosh. This is priceless. Jinx's entire persona is unraveling right before my eyes just because I told her my _name_. "And furthermore, we _both_ know that you aren't into the criminal thing anymore."

"It's the spandex, okay?" She cried, seemingly out of nowhere.

I didn't say anything. Because now I really think she _has_ lost it. I stared at her. She stared at me. And so there we were . . . staring at each other. All the while, she looked like she was having some internal argument with herself.

"Knock, knock." Someone said from the doorway, breaking our little staredown. I turned to see who it was only to be reminded of Robin as soon as I saw his utility belt. Rather than bataraangs, however, it was filled with an assortment of screwdrivers. The poor, confused guy stepped into my apartment tentatively, "I would have knocked but . . . I'm kind of here to replace your door . . ."

"Ah, yes." I stepped away from Jinx, "Can I help you with that?"

"Yeah, if you could help me lug it up the stairs, I'll do the rest."

"Sure thing."

And so the door was fixed, the guy was paid, and my landlord wouldn't have an aneurism. Hopefully, this won't become a part of Jinx's regular routine while she stays at my humble abode. I only have so much money saved up that I spend on new doors for my apartment. Plus, now that she has a key—or at least _knows_ she has a key—she might not feel the need to blast my door to bits anymore.

"You know," Jinx began almost hesitantly, "I actually am sorry about the door." I blinked in shock, not expecting her to apologize, "I guess I'm just not used to entering someone's apartment the normal way. Usually with me, I'm breaking and entering. You know."

Actually I don't. I'm a hero, Jinx. Remember?

"Well, I suppose I should get used to using a key. And knocking when I forget it."

"Wait," I started in earnest, "Does this mean that you've _actually_ turned?"

"You're not going to make me say it, are you?" She sounded thoroughly annoyed.

"Aw, Jinx!" I cooed, scooping her into my arms in an extremely affectionate bear hug. She grumbled and squirmed, but I wouldn't relent. This news called for a celebration, I think. "What's the date today?" I asked, running to grab the calendar from my room and reappearing in a second.

"The 13th . . . why?"

How ironic.

"Because, I'm going to make you remember this day for the rest of your life." I smiled like a goofball and hugged her again.

"That's reassuring," She grumbled against my chest, not even bothering to return the hug.

"Happy Friday the 13th!" I cheered, "You've made me feel like the luckiest guy in the whole world today."

* * *

***A/N: Yeah, yeah. I know it's not much longer than the previous chapter. But I ought to give you _something_. Am I right? Plus, it sort of felt . . . you know . . . finished. Which is always good when you put up another chapter. I hope you guys liked it. And seriously feel free to let me know how I'm doing. For those of you who have already reviewed, thank you. You guys are awesome and I love you. I know it's early in our relationship (I mean, this is only the second chapter) but I really do love you guys. Can't wait to hear what you have to say :) Also! Let me know about any mistakes/typos. I didn't take the time to read through this but I probably will later.**

**Thanks!**

**I don't own Teen Titans***


	3. Day 2

**Chapter Three**

It's only my second day in Flash's—I refused to call him _Wally_—apartment, and he's done everything to make me feel comfortable. It was really creeping me out. And, on top of that, my subconscious wouldn't shut up. It kept trying to convince me that, yes, the lightning bolts _are_ adorable.

I kept trying to convince_ it_ that the lightning bolts are adorably revolting.

"You look like you're arguing with yourself."

I jumped, forgetting that we were sitting at the kitchen table and eating. And that he was staring at me. He's been doing that for a few hours now and, while at first it was unnerving, I ignored it. But he's not even ashamed anymore like he was at first. He went from sidelong glances across the room to plopping himself down right next to me, putting his chin in his hand and blatantly ogling.

I scrunched up my eyebrows in annoyance, "Don't think you can read me. I'm an enigma."

"Fierce, you don't cuddle, enigma." He checked each off of his finger with a smile on his face, "Anything else?"

"I like long walks to the fridge when I'm not feeling particularly lethargic," I answered with a wink.

"As opposed to long walks on the beach?"

I waved my hand around, "Too much effort."

"Says the superhero."

He was smirking.

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're pushing it. I haven't even rescued a kitten from a tree yet." That was actually a lie, but I figured that he didn't need to know that. _Ever_.

He shrugged, smirk still intact.

"Oh, you're back to staring at me, are you?" I asked, picking up my sandwich and steering it to my mouth.

"Yeah." He nodded, "And I was also wondering if you wanted to join me on patrol this evening. Then I can call you superhero all I want." The look on his face told me that he wanted nothing more.

I gulped down my food to hide how I suddenly became nervous, "In Jump?" To be honest, the idea of running into any of my former teammates was unappealing.

I saw recognition in his eyes and he replied softly, "We don't have to. I could take us anywhere, really. From Gateway to Keystone or even Miami if you wanted. Jump will be fine for a little while." I tried to tell my subconscious that the fluttering in my stomach was hunger because I haven't finished my sandwich yet. My subconscious wasn't buying that.

"Keystone?" I asked, "Isn't that the _real_ Flash's domain?"

"My uncle is doing League stuff, actually."

"The Flash is your _uncle_?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind us patrolling the streets while he's out of town."

"Keystone it is, I guess."

His smile was blinding, "Great! Well in the mean time, should we do something fun?"

I looked down at my sandwich, "Eating is fun."

"I meant _after_ you're done gorging yourself," He retorted, rolling his eyes. I took offense to that. This was my first sandwich, after all, and he's already finished nine. Excuse me for not inhaling my food like I'm a vacuum. And, between eating and stealing, I've never really gone out and done anything 'fun' before. Why start now?

"Honestly, I was thinking about taking a nap or something." I said, biting into my sandwich again.

Even with the door fixed, I was planning on continuing my reign of his room. His bed was a lot more comfortable than the pull out.

He scoffed, "You'd rather nap than go play an innocent game of laser tag?"

She nodded.

"Movie?"

"Boring."

"Miniature golf?"

"_More_ boring."

"Did you lose your soul in all those years of villainy?"

I hit him upside the head for that one, "Look, people don't exactly take well to seeing a villainess walk into their establishment. They don't think I'm there just to enjoy the attractions, if you know what I mean. Even if we _did_ go somewhere to have this 'fun' you talk about, the workers would call the police before we could take one step toward the golf course."

"That's why _civies_ are so important," He countered easily, zooming out of the room and returning in less than a second, maskless and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. "No one would recognize you as Jinx if you're _not_ Jinx."

I could feel the blood drain from my face. Both at what he was implying and that he's _Wally_ again.

"Sorry, I don't _do_ secret identities."

"Why not?"

"Well, considering I'm _just_ Jinx and have always been that way?" I told him, growing more and more annoyed with his blunt questioning, "Gee, I wonder . . ." Maybe that was a little _too_ sarcastic, if the hurt shining in his eyes had anything to say about it.

"So you don't have any other identity," He paused, perhaps unsure how to approach this. I'm impressed that he has the brains to recognize this as an uneasy subject for me, "The way I see it, you have the opportunity to be whoever you want. You've gotta stop thinking of yourself as _just_ bad luck, Jinx. You're more than that."

I was silent for a long time, and we just stared at each other. There was something about this moment that reminded me exactly why I decided to hex his door down and turn over a new leaf. It reminded me of electricity and containment fields and roses and lightning bolts.

. . . Crap. My subconscious isn't gonna let me live that one down.

_You got that right_.

"Fine." I caved, "Let's go have _fun_."

Flash smiled.

An hour later, after finishing my sandwich, pulling my hair up into a ponytail and putting on some of Kid's smaller clothes which consisted of another black t-shirt and some basketball shorts, we were standing outside of Knott's Berry Farm. When I gave him a questioning look him simply explained that it's not Jump and people probably won't recognize me as much here.

Upon entering the park, I gulped at the sight of the rollercoasters.

"Jinx . . ." He said slowly, "You looked . . . scared." His expression of concern quickly morphed into one of amusement. I hated his expression of amusement.

"What have I told you, Flash—?"

"_Wally_—"

"I'm _fierce_—"

"I've got an identity to protect here—"

"And I don't get scared—"

"That reminds me—"

"Ever—"

"Have you decided what your civilian name is yet?"

"_Huh?"_

That threw me for a loop.

"You know, so that when people ask you don't give who you really are away." He said, scratching behind his ears, "And don't go running in the opposite direction in fear, oh mighty-fierce one." I scrunched up my eyebrows in thought. I honestly hadn't given it a single thought.

"I'll let you know, okay?" They stood there awkwardly for a moment, "Let's go ride that tall, fast one, yeah?" Just to prove to him that I didn't get scared of anything. Not even unstable looking rollercoasters. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the general direction of the ride.

These metal contraptions would either be extremely thrilling or the death of me.

I guess there's no stalling finding out.

***A/N: Yeah, once again, it was shorter than expected. Although, I think the next chapter will be a bit longer considering that they're gonna go on patrol and shiz. Sorry that it's been so long. I suck, I know.**

**Review?**

**Love you guys.**


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